


thank god it's just you

by Jean_Prinxe



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, F/F, Gen, He/Him Pronouns For Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, Nonbinary Sasha James, Self-Indulgent, Trans Melanie King, Trans Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26948254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean_Prinxe/pseuds/Jean_Prinxe
Summary: AU where instead of replacing someone, Not Them just inserts themself into a situation. They're also a tad more human and somewhat more friendly."I see you! Show yourself!"Sasha looks at the unfamiliar figure, brows furrowed as she's bracing herself, and then relaxes in recognition."Oh, Em, thank god it's just you."
Relationships: Basira Hussain & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 70
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beware! The work is very self-indulgent.  
> Alternate title - "local monster meets people who care"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you might want to look at transcripts of MAG39 & MAG40. I know I needed to

[CLICK]

EM

I'm sorry, I think it was me who lost the tapes.

ARCHIVIST

That's not the important part, Em. Just, tell me what happened during the attack.

[TENSE PAUSE]

Statement of Em Noth, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, regarding the infestation by the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss. Statement recorded direct from subject, 29th July 2016.

EM

Me and Tim were coming back from lunch. He saw the tape recorder lying on the floor, went to grab it, and we made some jokes. Then Sasha tackled us both - I'm still impressed, but I also got pretty bad bruises. I'm not mad, it could be worse, but still. We got separated from Tim almost immediately.

Didn't Tim tell you most of it already? I was with him most of the time, except for when I fell behind in the tunnels. I'm, I'm kind of tired.

ARCHIVIST

Yes, I, I suppose I only need to record what happened after that.

EM

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insisted on carrying the tape recorder. It's just, I couldn't carry an extinguisher to save my life, I thought, I thought it'd help at least with something, but clearly it didn't. I'm pretty sure that's where I lost the first tape.

I thought you were right ahead, and you were for a while, but then you made some turn and you were gone. I tried to follow what I thought was you, but instead I somehow came all the way back to where Tim broke through the wall, and I looked through the window, and I didn't see any worms? Except clearly there were, because as soon as I opened the door and walked out, I heard the... the _squelch_ , and I ran to... well, without any direction, but I ended up in Artefact Storage.

ARCHIVIST

With Sasha.

EM

Yes, she was there, and when I walked in, I could swear she didn't recognize me at first. She seemed like she was ready to punch me. But then I went in, and got more illuminated, and she relaxed. She said "thank god it's just you".

I didn't like the table she was looking at.

ARCHIVIST

As in?..

EM

Yes, I got the feeling from it, more so than the other things.

ARCHIVIST

Remind me to ask you for a statement about it.

EM

I'd rather not. I don't like my story.

ARCHIVIST

Okay, then could you please just say the short version now, while tape is running?

EM

I am the Institute's equivalent of a cat. I was hired because of my knack for feeling the supernatural.

ARCHIVIST

Three years ago, as soon as you turned sixteen.

EM

Three and a half.

Can we get back to my statement about the Preniss invasion?

ARCHIVIST

Ah, yes, right.

EM

I told Sasha we shouldn't look at the table. Or at anything. She did not like being there. But the worms didn't get in. We stayed there until the fire supression system got activated. We grabbed the recorders, and I must've picked up Sasha's. I dropped the recorder a lot, both in the tunnels and with Sasha. Probably hit the eject button. I don't think I'll be able to fully retrace my steps.

We ran out to get to a window, and-

ARCHIVIST

Thank you, Em, that's enough. Sasha told me the rest, and I'd... rather not hear it again. Are you alright?

EM

Aside from bruises, nothing a bit of rest can't fix.

ARCHIVIST

Then go and get some rest.

[CLICK]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the work is probably not going to be in 100% tape format, but I do like writing it a lot more than writing plain text, so might be  
> also yes, Em Noth is 19, that's a deliberate move on their part because no one in the Archives knows what 19 year olds are like


	2. Chapter 2

The next week is quiet and tense. No one knows what to do without the Archivist around, least of all Em.

Well, Sasha does, but she doesn't tell Em or Martin. That leaves Em very lost. They know what they "were doing" for the time they've "been" an archival assistant, but that doesn't leave them a good frame of reference aside from "research on whatever assignment Jon gives out". They end up sorting some statements based on whether they're "real". Maybe they "were" elsewhere when Jon talked about it, but they listened to that tape, and they have the feel for true manifestations of the Powers, which is "what got them hired".

(They're certain that the boss, the one with a fake identity, Knows their true nature and has already looked at their contract, just in case. Ugh. Eye freaks.)

(That reminds them.)

Em stands up from their desk and goes to "Elias". The door to the office opens before they're close enough to knock.

"Em Noth, I believe, is what you've called yourself? Somewhat on the nose, but oh well."

Em comes in. "I don't have a real name. What's your excuse?"

The man quirks an eyebrow. "I don't believe that's the reason you're here."

"Yes. You recognise me as I am. I believe my presense plays into your agenda somehow, or you'd do something. I don't appreciate your focus on me."

He dramatically turns around in his chair, now facing away from Em. "You cannot blame me for being curious. The likes of you don't go well with the Ceaseless Watcher, and you bound yourself to the Institute."

"What do you want for you to stop watching?"

"I didn't get as far as I did by telling strangers what I wanted."

There is a tense pause, as Em is watching the back of the man's skull. They practically feel him watching back, from...

"For someone as opposed to knowledge and certainty you're quite observant."

Em is facing the portrait now. "You're making your presense known."

Another pause. "I cannot fully stop watching you. But I don't have eyes in the tunnels except for when I do, and nothing interesting happens there unless something does."

Em smiles a little too wide. "How kind of you to speak my language."

They leave.

"Where were you?" Sasha asks them as soon as they're back.

"Performance review."

"Are you serious?" she asks, overlapping with Martin's "Wait, what?". For a second they think they slipped up, until Sasha continues. "What is he thinking? A performance review for someone hired at sixteen to literally just sniff out the supernatural, during the time their immediate boss is absent because of a recent worm invasion?"

"It was okay", Em says, confused. Why is she so agitated? Performance reviews are a normal thing.

"Maybe it went okay, but he shouldn't have arranged it now of all times", Sasha responds. "Christ, I hate capitalism."

That's Em's cue to commiserate. "Yeah, mood." Then they actually think. "Still have to exist in it."

That earns a laugh from Sasha. "You're not wrong." Martin returns - when did he leave? - with three cups. "We all need a break", he says, and Sasha nods.

The break ends up lasting until the end of the day. Em doesn't protest. They don't know what to do anyway.

Until the Archivist starts exploring their new home.

Nikola was right. He is too nosy.

But it isn't time just yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Em... didn't expect to have trouble.

Spying on them is easy. They don't even need an excuse to be in the room with anyone - it's enough to look down, and let them assume something.

But when after another time they do this the Archivist gives them an awkward hug, when Martin hands them a cup of tea in a rainbow mug, when Tim makes a bad joke and they "almost choke" on said tea, when Sasha asks how they're doing...

They shouldn't have chosen this form. No one is scared. Instead, everyone cares. Even the Archivist, with his paranoia, discards them as a murder suspect; they're not even "annoying", like he claims Martin is. They're "a child who shouldn't have been forced into this".

"I'm nineteen."

The Archivist isn't keen of this answer. "And the rest of us are in our thirties or at least very late twenties."

Em thinks about this plenty. Perhaps they need a disguise on top of this one; someone else who cares, so that these people will stop.

They get Nikola to put on an act together. Sasha seeks her out, and Tim tells her she will not be able to weather what he'll do if she breaks their heart.

"They Are So Funny! Truly, A Work Of Art!"

Their laughter is faker than her face. They embrace, and they take some pictures.

Nikola clearly has fun. They do too, they swear. The skin Nikola wears is new; Em finds themself wishing they knew whose.

Without even noticing, they walk ten miles in Em's shoes.

Em returns a hug, and the fabric is strangely soft. Em starts drinking the tea, and they notice it's hot. Em rolls their eyes, and Tim notes with triumph he's finally tired them out. Em answers. They lie in wait. They have a cover story that all of them can relate to.

"Had an encounter, as a child. With the Circus. It left me changed. Mum didn't want me anymore. So you could say I had an interest for my entire life."

Each reacts to a different bit.

"Well, shit."

"But I'm okay now."

They exchange looks; they say nothing.

The crew begins to care more, and it leaves them annoyed. They scare the Archivist into making him more paranoid.

Then Tim tells Em about one of Nikola's skins; makes it seem like he's over it.

...are they getting drunk on the care, or is it making them sober? Is it messing with their head, or setting it right?

No. They're not letting doubt in.

Not tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every single rhyme except for "hug" - "mug" in the beginning is deliberate.


	4. Chapter 4

Objectively speaking, they were in pain and they didn't know why. Objectively speaking, they couldn't cry. Objectively speaking, there was dissolved salt in their eyes.

Objectively speaking, it only made sense if all of these were lies: nothing hurt, they could cry, but their eyes were dry. Objectively speaking, that made it hurt worse.

Objectively speaking, it wasn't supposed to make sense.

They should've found a different way to get in the Eye's home. It bound them; it seemed to change them - surely this wouldn't have been an issue otherwise. Well, everyone's wise with their hindsight. At least they know where to hide. When they're not busy "working".

The Archivist is lurking where he shouldn't be. He sees Em stare at the table.

"Don't worry, I'm always able to look away."

"Didn't you tell Sasha not to look at it?"

"I can tell when I should stop."

"What if one day you can't?"

They shrug and smile. "Something vile will happen. Maybe we'll be joined by another "assistant" who's actually a monster. Like in Graham's case."

"You think whatever pretended to be his little sister was part of the table?"

"Not exactly, they're different. But maybe it's tied to it. By the Web." He won't hear the capital letter. Sasha would've, but they wouldn't have let her. They gesture at the pattern.

"I thought it was something of a fractal."

"Fractals are far less subtle."

He will think about this; when he thinks no one knows, that is.

"Either way, you shouldn't be looking at it. It's dangerous. What if it... tricked you into thinking _you_ can tell when you should look away, but it's actually _it_ telling you that, and it can stop doing this?"

He sounds like he's face to face with the Mother of Puppets, not Another Circus. Which... it _is_ her table. But he doesn't know that yet, no.

Em lets him get them out of that place. They space out. They find themself in an empty room.

They swear they set up their own doom.

Em is quietly crying on the floor. The door opens, and in steps one of them. Em has their back turned. They don't see who it is.

"What happened?" Tim's voice. "I heard crying, and... Em?"

He didn't recognize them at first, and it briefly lifted the pain. It's insane, how quickly it came back; knowing that they were part of what hurt him most... for some reason, it hurt. Was that the cost of stewing in the same pot for so long?

Well, either way, it's not strong enough to drop the pretenses entirely. "I'm okay. Just tired."

They think that's supposed to be human for "go away". But he stays, sitting down beside them, until Martin finds them both.

"Oh thank god you're here. Do you know what to do about..."

He sits down as well, facing Em, and they have to retract further into themself. He's _concerned_. He shouldn't be. They scoot away in some direction and hit a shelf.

"Ow! Okay, okay, I won't get that close again." Such a funny word he chose here. "Would it be better if only one of us was here?"

They make a gesture akin to a shrug. Out of the corner of their eye, they see Tim leave.

"I'm not going anywhere. I don't know exactly what's going on, but... It's messed up, isn't it? I didn't even believe in that stuff when I first joined, and I'm, well, younger than it says on my CV, but about a decade older than you nonetheless. And you get wrapped up when you're- well, I don't know _how_ old you were, but you called yourself a child, so..." He trails off, and it's painfully clear he cares. "It's unfair."

Objectively speaking, they couldn't cry. Objectively speaking, there was mist in their eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the way I imagine the main archives work room has Sasha's and Tim's desk face to face

That's not to say they didn't do what they had to do. Pretending to be human might have made them emotional, and they had to factor emotions into the performance, but, after all that...

"Ugh", Sasha says. "Anyone else getting the creeps just being here?"

"I can't shake the feeling that..." Tim trails off. "You know", he makes eye contact with Sasha, and she nods.

"You keep lying to me!" the Archivist screams.

Martin says nothing, just shivers whenever he's in the same room as them for too long.

The man with a stolen name doesn't bother them.

Nikola takes them out for "dinner" in the wax museum, where they stand very still.

(They feel like they're losing control, and they try not to think too hard about it. They're so close. They just need to trick the Archivist.)

(The Archivist, who doesn't trust anyone, save for the youngling who shouldn't have been pulled into the trainwreck that the Archives are.)

"Em, we need you to take a part in this intervention. Jon seems to trust you more than us, so with you on board, he might be more receptive."

When they hear that, they think it's funny. When they lock eyes with the Archivist and he asks if they believe others can be trusted, they don't laugh and don't even get mad about the compulsion.

With Sasha and Martin dragging the entire Archives team to weekly hangouts, they slowly rebuild what was broken.

(They wouldn't admit it, but Em feels like, despite the weird feeling the rest of them share, they build something else.)

A woman comes by, and, when she steps back out of the Archivist's office, her eyes lock in on Em.

"Are you new?" she asks them, and they realize she remembers they weren't there.

"...No? Why?"

"I came by before, and you weren't there."

"Huh. I must've been doing field research!" Normally they wouldn't say that, but other assistants were all there, and they still needed to believe, just for a little longer, that they didn't appear out of thin air. "I'm Em, they/them."

The woman lets out a small laugh. "Sorry, it's just that it rhymed. Was that on purpose?"

It wasn't quite. "No, it's short from both the deadname and the potential deadname if my assigned gender was different."

"Well, I'm Melanie, she/her." Pause; she notes the nonbinary flag sticking out of Sasha's pencil cup crossing with Tim's symmetrically placed trans flag. "Do they even hire cis people for the Archives? Because if they don't, that sounds like an ideal workplace already."

"It's one out of five, and only because he was very polite", quips Sasha.

"So, not Jon?" Melanie quips back, and, upon seeing Sasha's horror, quickly adds "I knew, his laptop has a sticker."

They all laugh.

Despite themself, Em does too.


	6. Chapter 6

The Archivist is exploring their new home again.

They want to hiss at the thought, and just barely restrain themself. They cannot allow him to find they've been living here, or he will-

Well. He won't _suspect_ something. He will think they don't have a home, and get _concerned_ , and maybe even _do_ something.

And that is _worse_. The slight suspicion, building up slowly, when the dots get connected one by one into a picture where you realize your baby sister, your cool uncle, your childhood friend is weird, that all evidence shows they weren't with you at that point when your memory says they must've been... That's what they live for.

"But everyone's concern will be the death of me."

"This Is So Funny! The Archivist, Concerned For _You_! I Am So Glad The Idea To Send Breekon And Hope There With That Table Came To Me! Even If You Don't Manage To Get What We Need, It Will Have Been Worth It Just For That Laugh!"

"About that! Other assistants are all convinced that he has no idea what he's doing. So I kinda doubt he's hiding it?" they say, and add almost immediately "But, but he might be. I wouldn't put it past him if he just, pretended to be terrible."

They say nothing of the warming up, and of the breaking down, and of looking forward to going back to seeing them left and right. They say nothing of getting to feel so weirdly welcome, over and over and over. They say nothing of how they've felt a strand of the Web come loose; the Mother of Puppets does not let loose, not for no reason, and they don't want to find out what the reason is.

Surely there is no cause for concern, Em thinks, and just smiles at Nikola an almost genuine smile.

But the Archivist keeps exploring their new home, and this time he brings Sasha in on that, and they're not good at hiding.

"Em? Oh god, what are you doing there so late?" Sasha's face is concerned, and they almost feel bad. Not that they can feel bad, of course.

But they can act.

"I saw the trapdoor open, and I was worried about you. I don't like the idea of you going down there. You never know what's hiding here. Last time it was Prentiss, we barely made it out alive." This time it's me, they think, and they don't want to laugh.

"Is- Is that really why you're here?" the Archivist asks, and they can just briefly think an "oh no".

"I live here. There's no feeling of being watched down here, so I like it."

They knew it might happen at some point; so they rehearsed their reaction. They act shocked, and put their hands over their mouth, for just a second, before choking out a "Ho- how did you do that?"

"We can think about that later", Sasha cuts in. "What do you _mean_ you live here?"

"I sleep down here. Like I said, I like it, I don't feel watched. It's relaxing."

Sasha shares a worried glance with the Archivist.

"And where did you live before we discovered the tunnels?"

"A van", they do their best to give the bare bones of a truth, just barely enough to stop the pull to answer. "Well, Nikki's van. She lives there. Can you please stop asking questions?"

"...Okay, but we'll have to find you a better place to live", Sasha says, and she doesn't sound like she will back down on this. "Let's get out of here so I can text Tim and ask if we can take you in. Not indefinitely, but until you find a better place."

"It's fine here, Sash", they argue, but she raises a finger in a "hush" motion, and the Archivist clearly agrees with her, so they give up.

It's not like it matters that much.

Not until Tim comes back and looks them dead in the eyes and asks them why they haven't told him, and they choke up a little. They can only think of how much he'd hate them if he knew; of how that was the intended game; and all at once, Em realizes the rules have changed.

No; they have changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> queerplatonic timsasha roommates (with aro Sasha) live in my head rent free


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> episode quoted: MAG79  
> let's gooo

The next weeks are a blur. The spare room in Tim and Sasha's flat is just big enough for them to not feel Buried. The room the two share is just barely bigger, as are the kitchen and the bathroom.

They talked once about the fact that they lived together for half a year by now. They called their relationship a queerplatonic partnership. They talked about how neither of them was likely to form a bond more meaningful than their bond with each other. Em remembered Sasha's voice, slightly wavering when she explained that there wasn't anything romantic about the relationship. How it was more than a friendship, but not the same as what that combination of words usually meant.

They cannot allow themself to admit they're getting used to the Archives. Used to four people, one serving the Eye and three helping him. So, so painfully used to being a part of that group.

It almost blindsides them when they feel the strings get cut, the table, wrapping them in a cocoon, destroyed.

They know what they must do now, and they follow the Archivist into the tunnels.

They know what they must do.

"Jooon..."

They can feel the Archivist's fear, and it's delicious.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

They know him well enough by now, they know what to say to make him reveal himself.

...They hesitate.

"Let me tell you a story", they begin instead. "You can call it a statement if you want."

Once upon a time, there was a monster.

"Once upon a time, a monster was sent to the house of its enemy, which had the biggest eyes you ever did see. It was sent there to steal all its secrets. It was sad because it couldn’t scare anyone anymore. But no one realised it was a monster, so they treated it like a friend. Like a human being. And the monster didn't want to be a monster anymore."

Their voice breaks.

"You can come out, Archivist. I... I mean you no harm. Not anymore."

They pause.

"...No. I will leave. And you can come out when you feel safe."

They can almost hear his disbelieving laughter, but they fulfill their promise.

The next day, the Archivist doesn't show up, but a Huntress visits (it's not the first time, but the longest they were in her presense), asking them about the Archivist and him having murdered an unknown man and his predecessor.

"I don't like her. She's... She's like the vampire hunter, and the serial killer who preserved the hearts, and the American werewolf creature. She has fresh blood on her fingers that will never go old."

"Cryptic", Melanie notes, now with Slaughter pulsing in her and tied to the Institute like the rest of them.

"Not more cryptic than the fact you've got steel in your arteries."

And they know they will get used to her, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet that concludes s2 aka "Em in denial"  
> stay tuned for s3 aka "there's a monster who we thought was a friend loose in the Archives"


	8. Chapter 8

"What did you mean?" Sasha asks them, cornering them in the break room.

"What do _you_ mean?" Em asks her, confused.

"The steel in Melanie's arteries thing."

"I meant that there's steel in her arteries."

Sasha scrunches up her face and covers her eyes with her hand. "Do you mean it the same way you mean there is fresh blood on Daisy's fingers?"

The questions pain them, but they see how badly she wants to know, and they do their best to swallow it. "Yes."

"What statements are there that deal with what you called steel?"

"The war music. Grifter's Bone." They've listened to every tape, and, since the Archivist disappeared, they couldn't be stopped from listening to the tapes he didn't want them to listen to; but only now it dawns on them. "Both statements Melanie herself gave, on war ghosts."

Em knows what she actually wants to know; but they are still not a being of truths, and there's only so much they can handle giving.

Sasha chews on her lip. "Do you think we should tell her?"

Em shrugs with a bit of force. "You tell her if you want to. Explain my thing while you're at it."

"Tell and explain her what?"

Em gives Melanie a tentative smile. "Sash, you're better at this talking thing than me." Then they slip out of the room.

They don't stop going until they're once again in the abandoned room they've taken to crying in, sometimes; and then they get out, because everyone knows that for their habit. Not that they've done it that often; that happened maybe three times. But it was enough for all of the others to get used to it.

They run into Melanie, of course, and she stops them in their tracks.

"Hey, I'm- I'm sorry. Sasha didn't tell me in detail, but it sounded like the whole "supernatural cat senses" thing came with more baggage, and..." She takes a breath. "Are you okay with telling me more that you know about, uh, the steel?"

Steel is war. Steel is joyless. Steel is meaningless, violence for violence's sake, with no purpose except to hurt.

"It's about anger and causing pain for no reason."

She winces. "Sounds like it. And it pretended to be a good thing, even."

The "thank you" she says before she storms off sounds like an insult, but they don't mind; they're focused on something else.

"Pretended to be a good thing." They know what it's like, and they know they won't be able to pretend that much longer. Sooner or later, they were certain the Archivist would return; he can't have forgotten what he told them, and soon everyone else will know they're not human.

Not Them.

Just because they no longer liked being a monster didn't make them any less of one.


	9. Chapter 9

The Archivist comes back three months later.

In that time, they manage to:

  * visit a poetry event with the assistants (and perform in Martin's spot when he decided he wasn't ready to share his poetry today);
  * witness Tim and Sasha mercilessly tease Martin's crush on the Archivist (and then witness them turn on Melanie when they get a suspicion she's also crushing on someone, presumably not from the Institute);
  * paint the back of their shirt white for the first of April (and then deadpan "this prank is outdated" whenever anyone told them their back was white);
  * witness Sasha slip hot sause into Tim's tea (and then open the "work envelope" on her desk to an explosion of glitter);
  * help Martin cover Melanie's desk in various pictures from their regular outings (and later help Melanie clean up);
  * and most importantly, even before everything else, convince Melanie to switch desks with them (and get the desk facing Martin, while they got the lonesome desk. it will be fine. they won't be staying a lot longer).



They are not ready to see the Archivist staring them down as the man with a fake name confesses his murders with far too much confidence, as the Huntress visibly prepares to pounce, in her own way. They are not ready to hear them negotiate and come to the conclusion of Basira joining the Archives. They wonder if she'll like the lonesome desk.

They are not ready to hear the Archivist's voice, still not recovered, say "I believe Em also has some important information they would like to share."

The man with a fake name cocks an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought you'd want to tell now, of all times."

Em tries to look like they don't care. "Ask away, then, Archivist."

"Why are you here?"

They close their eyes, unwilling to look at those they maybe could've, under other circumstances, called their friends. "Right now? Because I don't want to leave. I believe you want to know why I first came here, and that's a different answer."

"Why did you come here, then?"

"To gather information. To find out if the new Archivist is as much of a danger to our plans as the previous one would've been."

"What plans?"

Em retracts further into themself. "The Unknowing. A beautiful dance, spilling magenta into this world fully."

"And _am I_ "as much of a danger", then?"

They can hear the exhaustion in the Archivist's voice. They ignore the murmurs of the assistants, the Huntress's quiet growl, the smugness that the man with a fake name radiates in his silence.

"Debatable. You are far less competent, but you have a team, and..." Their voice, despite their effort, breaks. "And you've treated me like I wasn't a monster. That was nice while it lasted."

The Archivist takes a deep breath. "I think it is important to note that, after I accidentally sent them free from their binds, they've initially come to try and presumably kill me. However, they stopped that attempt fairly early on and left, telling me that they no longer meant me harm. When I came out soon enough, they weren't there waiting for me."

Em can feel the tension in the room. Then, impossibly fast, they hear a loud _bang_ and feel a sharp pain in the center of their chest.

When they open their eyes again, they find themself still in the office of the man with a fake name.

"You're right on time. I believe Tim requires assistance carrying another desk to the Archives."

"Another desk?"

"For Basira, of course. I'm afraid there were only five when she signed up, all taken."

Tim doesn't talk to them, except to ask if they were with the Circus.

"In a sense. Circus is part of what I am part of."

" _Great_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the April Fools' Day pranks are inspired by https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408423/chapters/61618189 - an og crew chatfic with a lot of chaos and fun


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! I had the first day of my new job today, and because of that, my writing prices of both this and Ripple Effect is likely to get slowed down!

"So, to catch you up. _Elias_ decided he still needed you here for some reason, and none of us like that. Tim is pissed, and he says you know _exactly_ why. Basira couldn't care less. Melanie doesn't have a problem except that she is pissed at Elias and, again, he for some reason wants you here, which means you, being part of whatever plan he has, can't be trusted. Martin is willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Jon is vary of you, but you stopped your attempt to kill him on your own, which is more than he can say of anyone else, so he's keeping an eye out but nothing too extreme."

Sasha tells all of this matter-of-factly, without bothering to let any sympathy into her voice. Em can't blame her. They _are_ a monster, after all.

"As for me. I do not trust you. And the _second_ you hurt any of them, I ask Daisy how to dispose of you."

Em smiles with one corner of their mouth. The smile doesn't reach their eyes. "I'm going back to living in the tunnels. Believe it or not, I did actually like it there. The brown sight is blind there and cannot look at me."

Her gaze becomes sharp, and she furrows her brows. "What is it about the brown sight being blind?"

And that's how the Archivist, the assistants, and Em end up holding a meeting in a room that might've been where Gertrude's body was found.

"You were right", the Archivist exhales. "There's- there's no feeling of being watched, down here."

(The Archivist is pacing nervously. Martin is watching him, worried. Tim is watching him, too, trying not to look at Em. Sasha's gaze is fixed on Em, as well as Melanie's. Basira has her eyes in a notebook.)

(Their own gaze is darting between each of them. Em is scared of them. Em is scared for them. Em doesn't know which is worse.)

"Elias refused to tell me anything about the Unknowing."

"It is not a tellable tale", Em smiles in joy, and they cannot stop the delight from seeping into their voice. "It _is_ about the unknown, the unseeable, the strange. All that cannot be comprehended."

"That's creepy", Basira notes. "You understand that, right?"

"He _did_ tell me about the Not Them. Sounded delighted in the fact that he believed it _genuinely wanted_ to stay here." The Archivist turns his attention to them. "Why, actually?"

Their mood sours immediately. "Beats me. You didn't treat me like a monster, and that was nice. But you will now." A sudden bright smile. "I don't know!"

The room is silent for a beat or two.

"Well. Either way", the Archivist continues, "he provided me with an analogy. He claims that at this point, it would be helpful to imagine that Em has recently got out of a cult, and that they are still unlearning the behaviour and the beliefs."

" _Right_ , like it's suddenly going to unmonster itself if we try hard enough." Em cannot blame Tim for this one. "And maybe if we all join hands and pray, all the supernatural bullshit will simply go away and repair all the damage it did."

They pull their knees to their chest.

He's right, and it hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing Tim Like That hurts both because it's bad for him and because he's mean to Em <|3  
> also, I feel like at this point (actually earlier, all the way back when there's a mention of "fresh blood" on Daisy's fingers and "steel" in Melanie's arteries) I should mention I have headcanon colours for all the entities (more thoroughly about these in Ripple Effect)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _sliiightly_ edited the first chapter, backtracking on Em's "age". now, instead of "soon to be four [years since I was sixteen]" they say "three and a half".  
> cw for my Horrible hc that the gag Nikola used for Jon is your standard kink gag

Em doesn't like being at odds with others, and, despite their efforts to conceal it, it's obvious to anyone who cares to look. Which, surprisingly, doesn't mean "no one": Basira is curious, Martin still wants everyone to be some degree of okay, and Jon, if looking with the same alertness as Sasha, has a slightly more trusting lens.

That's almost funny, but not nearly funny enough to laugh at it.

They find a quiet spot, away from everyone, and hit "Play".

* * *

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

 _(whispering)_ Live recording of January 9th, 2017.

TIM

 _(whispering rather loudly, agitated)_ Much more importantly, it's Em's birthday!

SASHA

 _(whispering, barely audible)_ Jon, can you help me put that balloon string up?

[FOOTSTEPS]

ARCHIVIST

 _(barely audible)_ Here?

SASHA

 _(barely audible)_ Perfect! Could you also tape the middle to the ceiling?

MARTIN

 _(whispering)_ Don't forget the party hats!

ARCHIVIST

 _(whispering)_ Is this necessary? They're twenty, not twelve.

SASHA

 _(whispering)_ Yeah, the approximate age when people stop caring about seeming childish if that makes them happy. And from what I've seen, they're the type to like balloons and party hats and party horns.

And maybe it's the first time.

ARCHIVIST

...

[SOUNDS OF A DOOR OPENING]

TIM

 _(overlapping)_ Oh shit-

EM

 _(overlapping)_ Oh, hey! Isn't it... _(realization dawns)_ kinda early.

SASHA

Surprise! Happy Birthday!

TIM

 _(slightly disappointed)_ Are you always this early?

ARCHIVIST

I warned you.

MARTIN

 _Anyway!_ Happy Birthday, Em!

EM

...

TIM

 _(concerned)_ Hey, hey, what's wrong?

[A SNIFF CAN BE HEARD]

SASHA

Wait, let me just-

[CLICK]

* * *

The tape is very short, and originally was thrown away. Em didn't know why they saved it.

They know it by heart now, even with how hard it is to hear most of it. They listen to it over, and over, and over again, as the words lose meaning. Just the voices. Those that could've been their friends. Those that still some degree of, but still don't talk to them much, mostly just asking questions.

...Now that they think of it, the Archivist hasn't been showing up for three days now, and they think they know why.

Late at night, they write a note to leave at Sasha's desk. "I have a suspicion I'm going to check. I'll tell you if I'm right."

They contemplate for a long time if they're really doing it, and they are.

Em visits Nikola.

"You've decided to use his skin instead, then?"

"Indeed I Have! But He Has _Not_ Taken Care Of It Properly! So We Need To Bring It To Condition First!"

"That sounds like a good idea. You do need to look your absolute best!"

"I Simply Must Agree! But Sadly It Will Take Me At Least A Month! That Is So Impossibly Long!"

Sounds like they have some time to...

To what?

"I know _just_ what to tell the others in the meantime!"

"Oh My! Have They _Still_ Not Caught On?"

"I am good at my part!"

Nikola laughs, and they can't help but laugh as well.

"Oh Oh Oh! Do You Want To See Him? For Him To Know You Played Him?"

A visage of that new world flows before their eyes. A visage of all the assistants, terrified in various ways, scared of _them_. It's so, so Impossibly delicious... and they make a decision.

"I _do_ want to see the Archivist! I bet he isn't even asleep yet, he has a _terrible_ sleep schedule!"

"He Truly Does!"

The Archivist isn't asleep, and they note he is genuinely scared to see him.

"Oh, I'll Leave You Alone! I Do Have So Much Work To Do! When You're Done, You Know The Way Out!"

They wait a solid minute or two after she leaves, and then they speak up.

"I'm not getting you out. But I am telling the others where you are. Do you have questions?"

He nods.

"Okay. Phrase them as not questions, saying "I would like to know" or something like that. And be quiet."

The Archivist nods again, and they unclasp his gag. He takes a deep breath, then another one.

"I want to know whose side you are on."

They consider the question.

"I don't know. I... I don't want you to die. Or the others. And I don't want to see you or them in pain. But the world of the theatre and the circus and all the blank faces..." They trail off, and then whisper the end of that sentence. "It would be beautiful."

The Archivist says nothing for a minute or more. Then, he whispers back. "Okay. Could you, uh. Ask her if she can use a different one?" He makes a movement with his head, in the direction of the gag. "It's- it's just that, it's- it's not- it's..." He takes anther deep breath. "An unpleasant association."

Em looks at the gag. "I think best I can do is ask her to change the colour. Would purple be better?"

The Archivist chuckles weakly. "Maybe?"

"For what it's worth, I don't believe she knows of the association."

He is quiet for another minute. "Okay. I don't have any more questions."

They gag him again and leave, but not before telling Nikola how they think purple would be a better look on the Archivist.

They'll tell the assistants about that when morning comes. Until then, they let the tears come.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it a "cw: Em gets called a monster a bunch" if that's kinda literal in their case

Tim's eyes don't leave their face even for half a second as they tell the assistants where Jon is. "Why should we believe that this isn't a trap?"

"The Web is the master of traps, and the Spiral is the master of lies. I am neither."

"You lied about who you were."

"I hid who I was. There is a difference."

Melanie cuts in. "Stop with the bickering. You're saying she's planning to kill him. How much time do we have?"

"At least a month, as she put it. For skincare reasons."

Martin shivers at that. "Eugh."

Tim is still suspicious, and Em can't blame him. "And why do you want to save him? Doesn't the whatever it's all for benefit you?"

They smile brightly. "I don't know why."

"Are you always so happy about not knowing?" Basira wonders, almost causing them to jump, as they forgot she was there.

"They do tend to sound cheerful about it", Sasha confirms.

"The unknown is my playing field."

"Is that _really_ what we're focusing on?" Martin's anger is clear. "Em just told us pretty much everything we need to rescue Jon and you're discussing how _spooky_ it is that they find joy in not knowing?"

"What's _spooky_ is that a known monster tells us everything to convince us to go somewhere none of us have been to and you don't even _consider_ that it might be a trap!" Tim seems to be even angrier.

Melanie clears her throat. "Maybe Em can't be taken at face value. But also Jon mentioned them indirectly misleading him into releasing them from something, so they could've done that instead."

"I did that, yes. But I don't know exactly how much time there is before Nikola decides the Archivist's skin is in good enough condition. I couldn't afford to lose time on mind games. Plus I don't like them."

"Oh save us the-" Tim is interrupted by Martin's "Basira, do you think Daisy would be up to helping us rescue him?"

"I'll ask her."

"You can't be serious! Are you just ignoring the fact that our information literally comes from a monster who's in on the plan to end the world?!"

Sasha takes a deep breath and looks at Tim. "We understand that, Tim. But if what they're saying _is_ true, we can't afford not to act."

He makes eye contact with her and exhales. "Fine. But I'm staying behind to watch them."

"Wouldn't it be more useful if the person with all the intel on the place is on the rescue team?"

"I don't trust them", Tim states icily. "Plus your partner might shoot them again, and that will make them even _less_ useful."

Basira considers this and nods.

"I can try distracting Nikola? She's social, and... we're kind of friends?" Em furrows their brow. "It's, complicated now. She doesn't know... anything, really."

Sasha gives Tim a look, and then faces Em. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I haven't told her that you already know I'm, uh. A monster. And not about the fact I don't want the Archivist to die. Or, or any of you."

"What about that Unknowing thing?" Melanie speaks up. "Do you want it to happen?"

Em closes their eyes and envisions, again, the world of magenta and theatre and never faces. "It would be beautiful. A glorious dance, a magnificent choir, and the world redone..."

"You're having a religious moment again", Martin states.

Melanie smiles half-heartedly. "Maybe we should add a code for that. Like, "code red" or something? Except obviously not red, since that's already the thing for Basira's cop goggles."

"Magenta", they suggest.

"Sure."

In the end, they do end up distracting Nikola, with Tim supervising as secretly as he could. They take as many pictures as they can.

"Am I even still needed at the Institute? Considering how the Archivist is unlikely to be a problem now?"

"Not This One, That's For Certain! But _Elias_ Might Appoint A New One! And Besides, There Is Nothing More Entertaining Than Your Stories From There! Isn't That A Record, For How Long You Went Without Anyone Catching On?"

"I told my blindspot that I simply wasn't there when she visited before, so that probably helped. _Elias_ knows, but isn't doing anything about this."

"Of Course He Knows", she sounds quite angry. "But Not For Much Longer! I Would Love To See His Face When He Won't Have Any!"

They go on and on, until Nikola dismisses herself to take care of the Archivist's skin.

But, when they return to the Archives, he is there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> initially mistyped "glorious dance" as "gorious dance" and. well. not wrong???


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important to note that the timeline here jumps around a lot, as I wanted to paint that time in a bit of a broader stroke. you might want to know that narration is mostly about overall events (except when immediately after dialogue), while each piece of dialogue covers different smaller bits

Slowly, but surely, some things are mended.

Martin already was almost at their side, but now that he witnessed them "sacrifice something really important in order to save Jon", he trusts them as fully as when he didn't know they were a monster.

"You mentioned that you stopped because it felt nice to be treated as a human, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Do you know how you actually like your tea? I don't know if the false memory I was given really represents how it is", and later "That's- that's not even really tea! You add so much other things it loses its true flavour! Not that I'm judging, it's just- what you like is _not_ tea!"

"I _am_ known as Not Them, so I guess it makes sense?"

They try to be cheerful about that.

The Archivist, who they now at his insistense call Jon again, is still slightly wary, but he's talked about purposefully trying to bring these walls down. He leaves and comes back and leaves again and comes back again, searching for what his predecessor came up with to stop the dance.

"I guess she did ruin that skin", they say, looking at what's left of it. "If she didn't take it, we'd have attempted it earlier. Maybe during her lifetime. Or maybe while you were too new."

"Maybe it's a good thing she did, then."

They try not to think about that.

Basira never really had a side other than Daisy's, and it goes both ways. They find out that Daisy decided she trusts Basira's judgement about them being more helpful than harmful.

"Keep in mind, or whatever you have instead of one, that you're dead as soon as I decide she was wrong about that."

They try to not be bothered by that.

Melanie is still not a fan of theirs, but she doesn't seem to dislike them anymore. She takes them out for coffee, once.

"I really don't like that you being there is something Elias wants. But the same is also true for me. Despite the fact that I tried to kill him several times, he made no move against me, except for..."

"Yeah... I know."

They try to not be too concerned by that.

Sasha gets her focus away from them and further towards the plan.

"Okay, so looks like I'm helping Melanie. Pretty sure I can guess any password he might have. I'm actually excited about that!"

"The part where you get to guess passwords or the part where you get to help bring him down?"

"Yes."

They try to also be excited about that.

That only leaves Tim.

"You've all heard how they spoke of "the beautiful dance". Elias might have thought it'd be a good idea for them to help, because they "won't get lost" or whatever, but we don't have a guarantee it's going to be a good thing. For all we know, they're going to join in the dance and make it easier for the Circus."

They're silent, because they can't argue.

They understand that; understand why, no matter what, he will not, ever, trust them, or like them, or be at peace with them; and they try to make peace with the fact.

Before half the people leave for the dance, they overhear Sasha telling Tim that he better not die, and he smiles at her.

It hurts, that one of the people they've ever wanted to be friends with is never going to be their friend; but at least he has other people that care for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy! I actually pre-wrote the next chapter, because I really wanted to write it. I think imma publish iit like. tomorrow. stay tuned >:3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the notes for this chapter while it was in drafts were:  
> "DRAFTS FOR S3 END TO S4  
> PLEASE DON'T ACCIDENTALLY PUBLISH EARLY"  
> uhhh, cw for uh. Elias bullshit. MAG118 is quoted a lot

[CLICK]

MARTIN

Are you listening?

EM

Probably not yet. Both our attentions are elsewhere.

MARTIN

You sure you want to do that?

EM

Are _you_ sure you want me there?

MARTIN

 _(takes a deep breath)_ Yeah.

[PAPER RUSTLING]

EM

 _(dramatically)_ Case 0071304! Statement of Ivo Lensik!

Do you want to do the honours?

[LIGHTER FLICKS OPEN]

MARTIN

If you insist, I cannot decline!

[FIRE BEGINS CRACKLING]

EM

 _(somber, the drama kid is jumping out)_ Statement ends.

[PAPER RUSTLING]

MARTIN

What about this one? 0070107?

EM

 _(gasps)_ Amy Patel, isn't it? Give it here!

 _(as fire crackles, musing on it)_ Graham was an amazing big brother. Maybe even better than me as a sister back in 94.

Hey look, 0140207, Dylan Anderson! Maybe this one?

MARTIN

And add Harold Silvana, 0020406!

EM

 _(cheerfully)_ On it!

[SHARP KNOCKING, FOLLOWED BY THE SOUND OF AN ATTEMPT TO OPEN A CLOSED DOOR]

ELIAS

We need to talk. Open the door.

MARTIN

Do you hear something, Em?

EM

 _(even more cheerfully)_ I hear the fire!

ELIAS

I do not have time for this.

MARTIN

Then maybe you should _make_ time.

EM

 _(with fake concern)_ But how would he _do_ that? Isn't the passage of time the aspect of the Spiral?

MARTIN

Wouldn't it make more sense for-

ELIAS

 _(cutting in)_ Unlock the door. Now.

EM

Aaaw, did _someone's_ key got stolen by _someone_ he couldn't focus on?

ELIAS

 _Stranger_.

EM

Don't worry, I didn't _destroy_ it. But the Archive is _such_ a mess!

[DOORKNOB IS TRIED ONCE AGAIN, AND THEN THE GRUNTS OF ELIAS BECOME QUIETER AS HE WALKS AWAY]

MARTIN

Did you _seriously_ steal his key?

EM

 _(unconfined joy)_ Uh-huh. Remind me to tell you where I hid it later.

 _(in a more serious tone)_ But really, why did you want me there and not Sasha? She also volunteered for either part, and I am good at obscuring his gaze.

MARTIN

Several reasons. Toss this one into the fire bin?

EM

 _(dramatically)_ 9830203! That's an old one!

[FIRE CRACKLES]

MARTIN

Well, first off, Sasha is a brilliant investigator. If there's one person who I trust can find every single piece of information, no matter how hidden, that's her. Secondly, you said that there's nothing he can use against you, and I'd rather minimize the amount of people he's going to hurt. And...

Huh.

EM

What is it?

MARTIN

 _(humourlessly)_ Well, you'll see, I guess.

[EM BEGINS TO SPEAK, BUT THE SOUND OF A KEY TURNING IN THE LOCK INTERRUPTS THEM]

EM

Oh! So he _found_ it!

[DOOR OPENS]

Hello again! How long did it take you to wash your hands after digging through the trash?

MARTIN

_What?_

EM

 _(smug)_ Mm hm!

ELIAS

 _(pissed)_ If you're _quite_ finished. _What_ are you doing?

EM

 _(cheerful)_ I weighed some pros and cons and decided that, if I'm getting severed from the Stranger from how much less I care about it, I'd rather serve Desolation than Eye, so I decided on a perfect way to show that! Isn't it _obvious_?

ELIAS

What. Are. You. Doing.

MARTIN

Oh, I'm sorry, can you not just _look_ into my head? Read my mind?

EM

Or wait, are you too mad about being unable to do that with me?

MARTIN

Or too busy trying to keep an eye on something?

ELIAS

Tell me what you're doing, and _why_.

MARTIN

I just thought I’d, you know, drop a couple of ideas in the old suggestion box.

[PAPER RUSTLING]

EM

Did you know that burning something together is a great bonding activity?

[FIRE CRACKLING]

Well, I do now!

ELIAS

And yet you haven’t set the whole Archives alight. So I assume this is… what’s it called. A cry for attention.

EM

 _(voice dropping an octave)_ Do not insult _me_ with such insinuations.

 _(faux questioning)_ What _were_ we thinking, actually? Do _you_ remember?

MARTIN

Maybe we just thought it might hurt.

ELIAS

No more than you’re hurting yourself by acting out.

MARTIN

Oh, so that’s it, isn’t it. Martin’s just acting out. I mean, Daisy’s a "rabid dog", and Melanie’s a potential killer, Tim’s a – a _rogue element_ , but Martin, oh Martin’s just acting out. He’ll have a cry, and a lie down, and feel much better.

[ELIAS BEGINS TO SPEAK, BUT EM INTERRUPTS HIM]

EM

And seriously, acting _out_? We're _inside_ , aren't we? Or has the definition of inside and outside changed while I wasn't looking?

ELIAS

If you're trying to give me a headache, then you are failing. Now, if you're quite done, I am very busy.

EM

So are we! And yet _you_ were the one who interrupted us, and just as we were about to burn - which one was it again?

MARTIN

8163103, Albrecht von Closen! He's quite an old one. Should go up very quickly.

ELIAS

 _(deep breath)_ Did Jon put you up to this?

[EM TRIES TO SAY SOMETHING]

Not _you_.

MARTIN

You think I'm doing this for him?

ELIAS

No. It’s just the sort of half-baked scheme he’d come up with, and I am well aware that you’d do just about anything for him.

[MARTIN TRIES TO SAY SOMETHING]

And I don’t need to read your mind for that one. As for _Em_ , they _are_ still of the Stranger.

MARTIN

Do you really –

Is it so hard to believe that I hate you as well?

ELIAS

No. It’s just hard to imagine that you would act on it.

[FIT OF LAUGHTER FROM EM, LESS HUMOUROUS AND MORE DISBELIEVING LAUGHTER FROM MARTIN]

EM

Are you doubting your eyes?

MARTIN

Do you think I'm bluffing?

ELIAS

Oh, no. You’ve made that quite clear.

MARTIN

So what? I don’t get to be angry? I don’t get to burn things? Just, just run around, making tea, while everyone else gets to actually have feelings?

ELIAS

Please get to the point, Martin.

EM

 _(cheerfully)_ What makes you think there's a point?

ELIAS

So you're just wasting my time, then.

EM

Mm hm!

ELIAS

I see. That puts me in a… difficult position.

MARTIN

Good.

ELIAS

You might want to turn the tape off, Martin.

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

MARTIN

Hm. Sorry. Looks like it wants to know what’s going on.

EM

 _(worriedly)_ Are you-

MARTIN

 _(cutting in)_ Yes, I'm sure.

ELIAS

You know Jon listens to all of them.

EM

Ooh, don't want your Archivist to hear you go off on his favourite assistant?

MARTIN

Wait, what?

ELIAS

Just wanted to spare you, Martin, the small amount of dignity you have left.

MARTIN

 _(disbelieving laugh) Dignity_? Right, yeah. Like the dignity of being trapped in your flat by _worms_ , or sleeping in the Archives clutching a corkscrew, or- or-

EM

 _(audible strained smile, yet softly)_ Go on.

MARTIN

 _(deep breath)_ Or fetching drinks for a _spy_ , convinced that _they_ are the one who needs help most, and then being led to wander impossible corridors for _weeks_.

ELIAS

 _(sighing)_ Are you done.

MARTIN

 _Not_ even _close._ Because, I – _(composes himself)_ I’ve been thinking. It’s not like you got this all-seeing thing recently. You’ve had it the whole time. I remember the way you looked at Em after the attack. You _knew_ they weren't here before. And I reckon you knew Prentiss was lurking under the Institute, too, and you did nothing. Why?

EM

Must be for the same reason he let me stay.

[TENSE PAUSE]

MARTIN

 _(coldly)_ Why.

[TENSER PAUSE]

ELIAS

Let's get this over with, shall we?

MARTIN

What, like with Melanie? Just that _perfect_ bit of information to leave me a wreck?

ELIAS

In a sense.

MARTIN

Well, I hope you’ve got something better than that pathetic dig at my feelings for Jon.

[ELIAS LAUGHS]

ELIAS

You were going to ask if he was sure he wanted you here. I can understand that, really. You're smart, and you've figured out where it would lead almost exactly. And _you_ wouldn't want _him_ here, now, would you?

[MARTIN CAN BE HEARD UTTERING SOMETHING SIMILAR TO "OH NO"]

Em Noth. Quite a clever play on the words you've been called for the past, what, six decades? "Not Them". Not an entirely inaccurate description - you never truly were who you pretended to be. But that's far from the first thing you've been called, isn't it? No... Being called a monster barely phases you anymore, either. Not in this language.

What was that story you've told them about how you came to "sense the supernatural"? That you could say you've had the interest your entire life, after an encounter with the Circus as a child left you changed and your mother abandoned you? Quite a peculiar tale. After the others have discovered you weren't human, they've dismissed it as a complete fabrication. They weren't completely wrong - the Circus didn't exist yet, and you, while feeling a child, were nineteen - and yet, if you dismiss the smaller aspects... It's all truth.

EM

 _(strained)_ Is that all?

ELIAS

 _(amused)_ Oh, you _know_ I'm getting there.

You've grown accustomed to being what you are now. You've had some time for it, now.

But you never could've been prepared to seeing your mother, the last night before the waters have changed you forever, giving her one last chance to convince you otherwise, and for the first time in nineteen years, to hear her say what she said.

[STATIC RISES]

Чудовище. That's what she called you. Уходи туда, откуда пришла.

[STATIC CONTINUES FOR A BIT, AND THEN FADES]

See to it that they don't burn any more statements.

[DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES. ALMOST IMMEDIATELY, SOBBING BEGINS]

MARTIN

 _(sounding lost)_ You- you said-

[HE STOPS VERY ABRUPTLY. AS CRYING CONTINUES, DOOR OPENS AGAIN]

SASHA

 _(triumphantly)_ Ta-da-

...

 _(immediate 180 in tone)_ What happened?

MARTIN

 _(somewhat angry)_ Yeah, so _apparently_ when they said Elias has nothing on them, they were wrong!

 _(calmer)_ Where's Melanie?

SASHA

I told her to go home. We knew the basics of what was happening here, and we knew she'd be enraged.

 _(softly)_ What it even was?

EM

 _(bitter)_ Nothing I haven't told you before. Back when you thought I was human.

SASHA

...

Oh dear.

[CLICK]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> Edit: I'm pretty sure this is the most commented chapter of this fic, and I'm really happy about it! Also, a comment made me realize that I forgot to include a translation to what Em's mother said and Elias repeated. It was "You monster. Go back to where you came from" :)))


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I slightly edited the previous chapter; nothing that matters much, just a bit of continuity for what actually works better with the story
> 
> also, cw for this chapter is in the end notes!

"Do you think they're okay?"

Sasha thinks she's quiet, but Em can hear her well enough, huddled up in the Archivist's office for the past four hours, not saying a word.

"Definitely not. What did he even do?"

Melanie's voice is angry, bubbling just beneath the surface of trying to snap once again. She's been better at controlling her anger; not suppressing it, but only feeling it when it was necessary. Until now, that is. Em isn't worth it.

"It's up to them to tell or not."

Martin says it firm and matter-of-factly, but it's misplaced. What does it matter if he tells? Em is a monster. They've been one for far too long. Tim was right to mistrust them. Daisy was right to try to kill them. It doesn't matter what happened or didn't happen so, so, so long ago.

Maybe Em has been human, but they aren't anymore.

There's a knock on the door. They don't move, and after a minute Martin pokes his head in.

"Hey Em? I-I made you... some tea?"

Em doesn't respond, and he puts the cuppa on the Archivist's desk. He leaves, unable to decide what to do.

They feel the Unknoing begin, the beautiful dance they've long prepared to attend, a magenta pulsation in whatever it is they have for a bloodstream. They can't bring themself to care.

Em hears a soft click, and the door opens again.

* * *

[CLICK]

[DOOR OPENS]

MELANIE

Hey, uh... do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather be left alone?

EM

 _(monotonously)_ The year was what you'd now call 1341. It had been three years since I've been married to Dmitriy; neither of us wanted that. We barely knew each other. We were not happy, barely acknowledging each other for a long, long time. We've become friends later; he sat me down, and we talked that we don't have to love each other, but we would be far less miserable if we at least knew and liked one another. We've made it work. For two years, we've made it work. And then it started to fall apart.

[THROUGHOUT THE NEXT PARAGRAPH OR TWO, MELANIE REPEATEDLY MAKES SOUNDS THAT GIVE THE IMPRESSION THAT IT'S NOT WHAT SHE MEANT BY "TALK ABOUT IT"; SADLY, SHE GIVES UP AT SOME POINT]

I liked to take my crafts to the river. I'd weave, I'd spin, I'd occupy my hands watching the waters. It came as no surprise that it's where I fled whenever I've been upset with anything. And that's where I fled when my mother asked, so sweetly, when should she expect grandchildren and I didn't know what to say.

Me and my husband, we were married in law, but we were not married in spirit. We have never wanted children. As we've made the decision to become friends, we've decided also that we'd never try for them, as neither of us wanted _that_. As hard as we may have tried, we did not and could not love one another. Hundreds of years had to pass for me to figure out the closest thing to someone I loved was Masha, and by then I've stopped thinking about my past almost entirely. But my mother could not let it go, and after she's left, I fled to the river.

That's when I first heard them. Their voices, so faint, promising me that my mother could never get to me; that she wouldn't know it was me, she couldn't bother me no more. I did not listen, at first. When I came home, for a second Dmitriy struggled to recognise me.

From then on, it went downhill. She'd talk to me about it again and again, but I'd brush it off, and I'd go to the river, and I'd hear them again. And then Dmitriy died from a weird sickness.

Widowed at the age of nineteen, no one knew what to do with me. I'd went back to live with my mother, but she did not understand my grief. I had lost the person who was probably my best friend at the point. She told me it was a pity that she was getting so old, barely able to see my face, and I lost my chance to make her a grandmother.

I had been at the river each day, and I've listened. I knew by then I must've been hearing rusalkas; girls and women who died too young, who killed themselves, who had not fulfilled their way on Earth and have been brought back, looking almost as human as before. They told me that the tale wasn't true; it wasn't that their way wasn't finished, but that they chose a different path. One that made people unable to truly recognise you; for no one can really know who the person before them really is, no one can look inside their head.

So I've come to my mother one last time, to let her know about it. I hoped she'd see I'd wanted to escape her judgement; she'd see she drove me away; she'd let me grieve as I'd do without adding her problems to it.

Instead, she turned ice cold. You're already one of them, she said. I know why I couldn't see your face clearly, she said. You monster, she said. Go back to where you came from, she said.

So I filled my bag with stones, and I came to the river, and I let it take me under; and I've made my choice.

[FOOTSTEPS]

[CLICK]

* * *

Em stands up for the first time since and turn the recorder off, handing the tape over to Melanie.

"...What do you want me to do with it?"

"I don't know."

She cringes, bringing a hand to rub her forehead. "Christ, it was better when you sounded chipper about it."

"Sorry! I don't know!" They pause, then continue in the same monotone. "Is this better?"

Her expression doesn't change much. "At least you're saying something now, I guess." She throws the tape in the trash, and awkwardly lingers before leaving.

What did she want? It can't, it shouldn't be that she wanted to help. Can't she see it? Doesn't she know it? Can't she realise that, despite all of their trying, Em is a monster, they will always be one, and they've made that choice far, far too long ago to come back?

Sasha marches in, determination on her face. "Hey, Em! You're coming out of here, and you're playing board games with us, and this is non-negotiable!" They look up at her, and her face softens slightly. "Non-negotiable, Em. That means you aren't allowed to protest. I don't know what Elias did, but it clearly messed you up. Let us help. _Please_ , let us help."

And there's nothing left but to do as she asks.

Em doesn't know why the others did it, as they don't talk to the three who try to talk to them and among themselves. They shouldn't care.

But clearly, for whatever bizarre reason, they do, and it makes Em want to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: semi-non-consensual statement, marriage that isn't consented to by either party, Heteronormativity times hundred, parental bs, societal pressure to have children (for the aforementioned marriage), suicide by drowning. however, it is noted that, aside from the marriage itself, consent in that relationship was never broken.
> 
> Em's backstory is brought to you by the rusalka myth and by Uncanny Valley Effect coming from human corpses!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still exist! capitalism will be the death of me  
> cw: Tim's past is mentioned, alienation (implied to be caused by the alienated person being queer)  
> sometimes stray italian greyhound starts playing in your head when you're writing despite you actually listening to wicked. this is one of these moments

Their head bursts with a headache, and they know exactly what it means. It doesn't stop Em from falling to the floor and clutching their head and howling out in pain.

"Please no, please no, please no", they don't even realize they're muttering to themself. The pain feels like it will shatter their head, like it won't stop there, like it will break their entire body like a porcelain doll. They roll over, away from the others, screaming; not noticing others' attempts to help.

When they come to, they don't recognize the environment; but after a few seconds, they recognize the words that the tape recorder speaks; and, as they turn to the sound, they recognize two figures. Lying down on his back is the Ar- _Jon_ , Em corrects themself with a flat inner voice - and sitting with his back turned is Tim. Em can tell that both are listening to their tale. They feel the thin cerulean strings in the air, not too tight, but still pulling; just strong enough for their intended purpose, as always.

The tape ends, and Tim turns around, only to get startled by the sight of Em awake. His expression quickly goes from surprise to guilt as he makes eye contact.

"How long have you been awake?"

His voice is surprisingly soft; none of the bitterness they've gotten used to hearing from him. Em finds themself unable to speak entirely, so instead they show two and then three fingers. He nods and then furrows his brow, as if trying to come up with something to say. What does he have to say? Why now?

The tape recorder plays a sound of a throat being cleared.

"Not to interrupt, but, if I may say a few words to Jon?" The voice feels acute; exactly enough to be noticed, and the pause that follows is exactly enough to leave the space for the "Go at it" Tim fills with the venom he saved on Em. "Thank you. Jon, you, like your magenta assistant in the nearby hospital bed here, have a choice. You can choose to turn away from the Ceaseless Watcher, stay fully human and die. Or you can accept it, become the Archivist and live. You don't have to make that choice quite yet, but you'll have to do it soon. Em doesn't possess their voice at the moment, so I'll say what they want to say: they are a monster, all because they've made that choice. Tim also has his point, so I'll let him speak. Take your time; and until we meet again."

The tape clicks off. After an uncomfortable, tense silence, Tim speaks.

"I'm not entirely sure what they meant by my point, but I do have something to say. I've let myself see you only as a monster, only as an evil, and I've been blind. You've shown time and time again you are a person beyond..." He trails off, and then adds quietly "Beyond what happened to you." He clears his throat. "I'm sorry. And I'm also sorry that this is how I learned, and..." He puts his face in his hands. "There really is no good way any of this could have gone."

He pauses, seeming to give them space to speak. By now they're probably in control of their voice, but they don't say a thing. What is there to say?

Tim takes a deep breath, and chews on his bottom lip for several moments. "If I never found out about your past, I'd continue to only see you as one of Stranger's monsters. Like someone who killed my brother. But... it's hurt you too, didn't it?"

Did it? The rusalkas did call them, and their song shifting Em's face was what made their mother abandon them, but that was not where it started. No; they've felt like a stranger long before they were a Stranger. A woman who didn't love her husband; a woman who wouldn't get children; a woman who spent more time in the company of her friend than her lawful spouse. They didn't belong. And maybe that was why their master took interest, all the whispers making them into someone people had feared and hated for being different; but it didn't start there.

"No, it didn't start there. If anything, it gave me purpose. It took me in when I was as good as cast out. And it happened long ago. I'm not that girl who it happened to."

Tim is silent for a minute or two.

"I'll tell the doctor that you woke up."

And just like that, Em is alone for the moment.

Why is it now that they've all decided Em is worth any of this? Why now, after they have been reminded they don't deserve it; that they chose to become a monster, and that it hasn't changed even with how they've tried to pretend it wasn't true?

They just had to go and start trying, didn't they?


End file.
